Mrs. Dorriman Volume I Part 11

Poor Mrs. Dorriman was ready to cry at the suddenness of the attack. She answered something in a low voice which was heard by no one--but she required no defence. Mr. Sandford, usually absorbed in his dinner and taking small share in the conversation, looked up keenly as Grace put the question, and when she a.s.serted the visits were of such frequent recurrence he received a certain shock. An old servant--who was she? But he was not going to have his sister bullied by any one but himself, and he thundered out with an emphatic slap upon the table:

"What business is it of yours, I should like to know, who my sister visits or does not? I consider it very impertinent and uncalled-for your speaking in that way to her; and I blame you," he said turning to his sister, "for letting her get the upper hand; you should keep her down, you should keep her in her place."

Grace rose, white with anger. Margaret trembling rose also.

"Sit down, both of ye," he said, in a tone which awed them both, and they sat down. When they eventually left the room Grace went to her bedroom and Margaret followed to console her.

But the consolation was not so great because Margaret, while grieving for her being wounded, could not think her in the right, and was much too honest to say so; and to her sister no consolation could come unless she was entirely placed in the position of an injured martyr.

In the meantime Mr. Sandford sent for Mrs. Dorriman. He could not be happy till he had spoken to her about this. He did not choose that she should be bullied but he also did not choose that she should have old servants and people in her interests at hand.

"Who is this person living here, and in your confidence?" he asked roughly.

"My old maid, Jean."

"What made you bring her?"

"I did not bring her; but, supposing I had, if I did not bring her to your house, it cannot matter."

"It matters, because you are keeping to my wish ostensibly, but, in reality, you are opposing it."

"I do not pretend to understand you," and Mrs. Dorriman's spirit rose.

This was going too far. "You break up my home; you bring me here; you deprive me of the comfort of my personal attendant--and to what end?

What is the use of my being here?"

"Of course you cannot understand. You cannot afford a separate house.

There are certain papers your husband had, which might have made all different. You _might_," and he looked at her earnestly and anxiously, "have found receipts and be better off; but the purport of everything would have to be explained to you, and, after all that has come and gone between me and your husband, it would be as well not to let a stranger step in."

Mrs. Dorriman shrank. She also had this fear; but we say a thing to ourselves that we cannot bear to put into words, and now it was dreadful to her to hear this. Her spirit died again, and she said helplessly--

"I cannot give up seeing Jean."

"How did she come here?"

"When I told her you would not--could not--have her here, she said nothing, but she sought and found a situation here. She has been ill; and she has had no comforts; and I _must_ see her!"

There was a pause. Mrs. Dorriman looked at her brother anxiously. He was evidently thinking over something. At length he broke silence--

"What is the tie between you?" he asked, abruptly. "Has she any of your things in charge?"

"Things!" she said, surprised. "No. Why, poor thing--where could she put them? No, she has no charge of anything; and the tie between us is but the tie of long service and great trustworthiness. You are a rich man, brother, and can command services; but to be poor and to be alone is to know what faithful service given you from affection is."

"That is a high-flown idea," he answered; "that is the sort of thing the doctor said. I never found that sort of service available. I was also to derive much satisfaction from the society of young people. I cannot say that the society of Grace Rivers affords me any satisfaction; I think she is as disagreeable a girl as I ever came across."

"She has all the lessons of life to learn," said Mrs. Dorriman, gently.

"She had better learn them soon," he said, gruffly, "if she intends to remain under my roof."

"If she could marry, and have a home of her own," and Mrs. Dorriman sighed, for this did not always bring happiness.

"And why should she not marry?"

"There is no reason, except----" and Mrs. Dorriman made a startled pause.

"Well," said Mr. Sandford, "except--pray go on--you really are very trying sometimes. What upon earth are you afraid of?"

"To marry, you must have a chance of seeing people."

Mr. Sandford reflected upon this answer, then he said--

"You do not know it, but do you know sometimes you say very sensible things."

Mrs. Dorriman smiled faintly, and left him, relieved beyond expression that nothing more had been said about Jean.

But her satisfaction did not last long. Late in the afternoon of the next day she was told a woman wished to see her, and Jean--much too ill to have left her bed--stood before her, pale, defiant, and all her spirit roused to resistance.

"The master has ordered me away," she said, "he came to-day and bid me go. He threatened and stormed!"

She was flushed and feverish. All through the cold wind of the early spring she had come, fever in her veins, and burning in her head; and now she dropped down upon a chair and shivered, looking wild, and evidently was on the verge of delirium.

The dinner-bell rang unheeded, and when Mrs. Dorriman was fetched she sent word she could not come.

Mr. Sandford, angry and amazed, went to her room--to find Jean on a sofa, talking loud and fast, incoherently, and Mrs. Dorriman pale and composed, attending to her. She met him with reproach.

"How could you? How could you?" she began. "She was ill, poor thing! and you told her to go. But she shall not go! I will nurse her. My poor, poor Jean!"

Mr. Sandford himself was startled. To do him justice, he had not seen that the poor woman was so ill. In the height of her illness, upheld by a strong resentment against him, she had come to his house, and there she must remain.

No persuasion would induce Mrs. Dorriman to consent to her removal to the hospital or to allow any one to take her place by Jean's bedside.

The doctor came and went constantly, Mrs. Dorriman, submissive and timid when she herself was in question, was neither of these things as regarded Jean.

That bow-windowed room coveted by Grace was made into a bedroom for her, but she would not sleep out of Jean's room; she allowed no other hand to tend her. Mr. Sandford was astonished and touched. This was the weak woman he had scouted, and whom he had thought so incapable. He watched her come and go with a perpetual amazement, and learned by that poor woman's bedside something of the service love can give and does give, and which no money can buy.

It was a sad household because Mrs. Dorriman was missed by all, but as there is generally a bright spot somewhere, so in this instance Grace thought she had found it, and that now she had her opportunity.

She rearranged the drawing-room, making the very moving of the furniture a protest against Mrs. Dorriman's position as head--she interviewed the cook, throwing so much command into her manner that she was met with direct antagonism. All the servants were in arms against her, the dinners were bad, the servants discontented, and the household bills heavy. Grace knew nothing of expense, nothing of the commonest rules as a guidance, and she allowed no one to suggest or of course tell her anything. Mr. Sandford recognised the loss of his sister's services the moment he was deprived of them; and Grace had the mortification of hearing him say to her,

"It is to be hoped you will be soon able to take your own place again.

The discomfort is terrible, and we never get anything fit to eat, and everything is at sixes and sevens."

Watching his sister's ways with the servant she so regarded, he could not help asking himself whether supposing he was ill, as ill as this, he could command the same devotion. He expressed this to Mrs. Dorriman one day; she looked at him gravely and said without any emotion:

"If you were ill, I should try and do my duty."

He turned abruptly and left her; he had hoped for something more, and yet what reason had he to expect it?

When Jean got better and required less attention, Mrs. Dorriman found that all her powers were wanted in a different direction.